


A Cowboy's Requiem

by thebronzeages



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, CoMpUtEr RePaIrMaN jkjk, Found Family, M/M, Nostalgia, Pining, Space Cowboys - Freeform, Space Pirates, cowboy bebop but mcyt?, space battles!!!!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:42:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28991634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebronzeages/pseuds/thebronzeages
Summary: When Dream crashes his ship into a mostly-empty planet on the outskirts of the galaxy, he finds himself befriending a satellite engineer, George. Together, they must come together with Dream's childhood friends, Karl and Sapnap, to rescue Quackity, who has spent the last three years imprisoned in a solar system on the other side of the cosmos. Will the Feral Boys be reunited after so long apart? Or will they die trying? And while they're busy freeing their friend, Dream and George might find that there is something greater between them than just a beautiful friendship.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 23





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfic and I'm really excited! I hope everyone enjoys the story and I'm totally down for constructive criticism and feedback. Have a lovely day :) 
> 
> Do NOT repost this on any other website! I will report it and have it taken down! Also, please don't send this to CCs or tag them or mention it in donos/chat/comment sections, etc.

As he lay on the damp grass, staring up at a pink and golden sky, George tried to picture, for a moment, what might live beyond it. He’d asserted, once, that if sunsets had a flavor, it would be that of a fresh strawberry, and yet as his hand stretched out and grasped a blue cornflower, he wondered if it might not be a raspberry instead.  
  
He often daydreamed about what lay beyond the clouds. Their town might have been a satellite station, nothing more than technicians making sure each line was patched through, that no communication was lost, but George had always longed to know, to see where those messages came from. Where they went. At sunset, it was impossible to imagine, but when the sky grew dark and the stars tiptoed into the sky, they called to him. On some nights they even seemed to beckon him on, encouraging him to let his imagination run wild and picture people and places that would put every creature born of legend to shame. On other nights he could almost hear the stars begging him to join them—a deep, soothing lullaby, gently pulling him up and away, into the cosmos, into the burning fires of galaxies in full bloom. He closed his eyes, propping himself up on his elbows, yearning for that tether to return, for any sign that he was right in feeling so lost, so out of place here, when Skeppy’s loud gait broke the peace.  
  
“What are you doing out here? Did you fall asleep again?” Skeppy huffed, leaning against a tree.  
  
“No, I was just dreaming.”  
  
“You can’t dream without sleeping, dipshit.”  
  
“No one asked,” snapped George as he began getting up. Skeppy smirked but reached forward to offer him a hand.  
  
“C’mon, we have a transmitter to fix, and the guys from Plato-87 are looking through our set-up to see if they’ll rent a spot at the station.” Crap, he’d forgotten about that. “You should be over there, sweet-talking us up.”  
  
George rolled his neck, looking over at Skeppy from under heavy lids. “You’re all perfectly fantastic at what we do, why do I have to pitch it?”  
  
He scoffed. “Because you’re the chief operator.” His blue hair was falling into his eyes.  
  
George heaved a sigh before standing and stretching. This meadow was one of the many he liked to run away to. The floor was full of flowers, colorful buds sprouting everywhere. He’d wondered, as a child, whether each one didn’t belong to a star. Whether the two most beautiful things he knew hadn’t been paired together, gifted cosmic soulmates. And then as he’d grown up, become obsessed with the history of the universe, the endless factions and empires so much larger than life—than his life—he’d begun to think that each flower must be a reason to go and a reason to stay.  
  
But for the moment he simply stood up and followed Skeppy back to the station. His goggles were laying on his workbench, right where he’d left them. He didn’t bother putting them on as he greeted the visitors, all wide eyes and perfectly neutral pouts, and showed them around one of the galaxy’s most important communication stations, one that did not make a sound.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream frantically seeks out a place to land as his ship falls apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really short, so I'm hoping I'll be able to upload the next one before the week is over! I hope you enjoy it, though :)
> 
> Do NOT repost this on any other website! I will report it and have it taken down! Also, please don't send this to CCs or tag them or mention it in donos/chat/comment sections, etc.

“Come on, come on,” Dream muttered, as he pressed the engine stabilizer again. So far, he’d been able to stay on task even as alarm after alarm went off, but as the back-end thrusters failed he felt himself start to slip. 

His lime green overalls were filthy from the hours he’d spent on his back in the engine room, checking the fuel cells. He knew this was a bad part of town to get stuck in. These systems wouldn’t have a decent spot to hide out or get repairs. These areas were barren. Which was exactly what made them so appealing to fugitives. He pulled up the holographic map of nearby systems, skimming through them until he found a planet he liked. A breathable atmosphere, some life but nothing too serious. And close. Close was important. Close meant he just might make it. He plugged the coordinates into his navigation port and while the system booted up, made his way into the closet that Patches had unofficially claimed as her room. He scooped her up, trying and failing not to wake her, and put her into the suspension bubble, where she’d be the safest if they crash-landed. He took a long look at her and sighed. 

“God, I really hope you don’t puke in there.” It had happened twice before, and he still had nightmares about cleaning out the smelly mess. He jogged back into the cockpit and swung into his chair, muscles easing into the soft material. He grabbed hold of the throttle lever as the ship began turning, angling down as they headed to the planet. 

He couldn’t afford another scuffle, he knew that. This ship, the D.R.I.S.T.A. was a menace and a half, but she wasn’t designed for long battles and tactical defeats. He’d bought himself a racehorse that he needed to stop using as a battering ram. 

The planet came into view and Dream gave himself a second to enjoy it. He hadn’t even realized that the planet was rife with vegetation when he’d picked it, but from here he could make out the swaths of green that surely meant forests and fields and flowers. But that wonder passed as D.R.I.S.T.A began to enter the atmosphere. He watched as his ship became engulfed in white fire, the flames grasping at the metal outside. He kept his hand on the throttle lever, speed steady, even as the roaring grew louder and the cabin began heating up. 

He gritted his teeth as something rattled behind him, but just as he thought shit would truly hit the fan, they cleared the barrier and the planet appeared beneath them. “Yes! Patches, we made it!” He called, looking back through the doorway. He turned back to the console, a smile just starting to tug at his lips when he realized they were still barreling towards the ground. And suddenly, those luscious trees he’d envisioned as they descended no longer seemed as inviting. 

“Well, fuck.” _Hold on tight, Patches, we might still die after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, have a lovely day!


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George meet, but it doesn't go quite the way George expected...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this chapter is a little longer, and the story's finally going to start picking up the pace, soon, which I'm really excited about! I hope you enjoy reading this week's chapter! 
> 
> Do NOT repost this on any other website! I will report it and have it taken down! Also, please don't send this to CCs or tag them or mention it in donos/chat/comment sections, etc.

George was hunched over a circuit, goggles on, lost in the wiring of the set in front of him when he felt the boom. He heard it a moment later, standing up as corkscrews rattled to the floor and jugs of water danced across the desks. Two seconds passed and then Ponk made his way down the stairs, wide-eyed and gasping like a fish. 

“Did you see it?” Ponk demanded. 

“I felt it,” George replied.

“No,” said Ponk, shaking his head. “Did you  _ see _ it?”

George hesitated. “No. What—”

“A ship. It was a ship from space. It came burning in, looked like a meteor. It didn’t crash far from here.” George’s breath caught in his throat. He’d expected a burst pipe, maybe a landslide on the nearby mountain, but a spaceship? It couldn’t be. 

“Let’s go,” he said to Ponk. He pulled his goggles up into his forehead, blinking to adjust back to this unfiltered view of the world. He grabbed his pack of tools and the fire extinguisher next to the door and strode through it. 

“What do you mean, “let’s go”?” asked Ponk incredulously. “We don’t know who was in it. We don’t really know where it landed.” He waved his hands through the air. “We don’t know if it’s safe. There are, like, a million things that could go wrong.”

George stared at him, his breaths long and slow—sure. “I’m going. I have to.” He felt something, some part of him that had been asleep for as long as he’d longed for adventure, wake inside him. 

Ponk sighed, running a hand through the dark stubble tracing his jaw. He waited a moment. “Just don’t get yourself killed, okay?” 

George grinned even as he felt his stomach plummet. “Good luck,” he said as he jogged out and onto the Western path.

“What for?” replied Ponk. 

“Because Bad’s gonna kill you when he finds out you let me go,” he called out before disappearing into the trees. He walked through the flower forest, steps sure as he followed the smoke that was floating above the treetops. Every so often he would find a mossy boulder to climb to make sure he was going in the right direction. His boots were scuffed but they still had a firm enough grip that he didn’t have to worry about slipping. After fifteen minutes of following the makeshift trail, he neared one of the largest meadows in the area. 

Through the trees he could see the destruction that had been caused by the spaceship, which thankfully still seemed intact. The ship was somewhat small and completely smooth. It was shaped almost like an egg. Where once daisies and dahlias had arched through the grass, now there was only bent, smoking metal and piles of displaced dirt. 

He stood at the edge of the meadow, half-hidden, waiting to see if someone would emerge. Just as he was about to step into the clearing, a man walked out from the other side of the ship, scratching his neck as he stared at the heavily bruised hull. 

He wore bright green overalls and a tight, charcoal gray shirt underneath, the sleeves scrunched up at the elbows. Across his chest was an empty bandolier. He crouched down, looked at something, and then collapsed onto the ground with a loud sigh. He ran his fingers through his dirty blond hair, which was stuck up in odd places.  _ Who wears fingerless gloves?  _ thought George as he took in the ship. The paint might have been green, once, but it was so chipped in places (and charred in others) that there was no telling what was intentional. And the paint job really was the least of the problems. 

George took a deep breath and then stepped through the trees, into the clearing. The man’s pine green eyes snapped to his. Pine green eyes that took him in from head to toe. Pine green eyes that seemed to hold the entire multiverse within them. 

Maybe this was why George had always wanted to go to space: space looked like that. George lowered his eyes to the floor and cleared his throat. 

“We, um, we heard you crash.” His hands were flailing all over the place as he tried to explain his sudden appearance to this perfect stranger. “And I work—operate the station near here. I came to see what happened.” He looked back up to find the man now sitting up, grease marks and freckles splattered across his cheeks. “I came to...help.” 

The man stared at him for a moment longer before breaking out into a grin. “God, I thought I was gonna die.” He laughed. “I’m Dream.” Dream got up and walked over to George, reaching out a hand before snatching it back. “Oh shit, I’m all covered in soot.” He wiped his hand on his equally dirty pants. “Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly. 

“That’s okay,” replied George, thrumming his fingers against his leg. “I’m George.” He stared at Dream for a moment before remembering his reason for coming. “So, um...your ship.” 

“Yeah, my ship.” They both turned to stare at it. George took a deep breath and stepped up to it. He peeked through the open door and caught a glimpse of the cockpit, where smoke was billowing from one of the panels, and at least eight warning lights were on. 

“The damage...it’s not just internal or external it’s...everywhere,” said George, looking back at Dream. “I don’t know if we have the parts necessary to repair all of it.” Dream groaned, stepping away from his ship and pulling at his hair. “But,” said George, trying to give the poor man some hope, “I think we should be able to do all of the basic repairs here and then go get the necessary supplies to finish repairs. We might have to go somewhere else to get them.”

Dream nodded, chewing on his nail as he stared at nothing. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. That works.”

“Alright, then. I think we can fix the hull here. We’ll make sure the outside is nice and strong, and then Aether, the next planet over, should have all the bits and bobs for the control system.” 

“Mm. That works. Once she’s ready to fly we’ll hop over. I can manage the manual flight. As long as the throttle and steering gear work, I can make it,” said Dream, chewing on his nail.

“Wait...we?” said George. 

“Well, yeah, I mean, I don’t really know what pieces we need. I’ll pay extra for the time away from here,” offered Dream. 

“Right, of course, because I am...getting paid. This is a job.” George nodded, taking a deep breath. He was going into space. After all this time, he would finally see the stars up close. “Right, then. The metal’s still hot, so we can’t get in there just yet, but we can walk back to my town and start gathering some supplies.” 

“Lead the way,” said Dream, waving his broad hand at the trees. George stepped around him, heading back the way he’d come. They began weaving through the forest, Dream always two steps behind George. George couldn’t shake the feeling that despite the knotted roots and creeping vines across the floor, Dream’s eyes were trained on him. “Do you know a place where I can buy cat food?” 

“Um, yeah,” said George, frowning. “Do you have a cat?”

“Yeah, but she’ll be fine on the ship.” George pressed his lips together. “I think.” 

George passed under a low hanging branch and couldn’t help turning to watch as Dream folded in half to swing under it. They made their way back to the town, chatting quietly as they went. No matter what question George asked, though, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this stranger was more comfortable when George was completely in the dark. 

When they arrived back at the outpost, George decided to take Dream to the market square, where they would have the best chance of finding the large metal panels they would need. They walked into the shop and George turned to look at Dream. 

“I think we should find most of what we need, here.” George couldn’t help wondering when Dream had put that bucket hat on.

“Alright, I’ll look this way, you look over there,” Dream said. They collected a bunch of different panels, scraps, wrenches, and a welder and Dream paid for all their materials, barely blinking at the sum offered by the shopkeeper. They lugged the materials through the town, George guiding them back to the station where he worked. 

“Just wait here,” he told Dream, who was looking a little pale. “I’m going to get some tools from my station and then we should be ready to go.” Dream nodded, leaning against the brick wall of the outside. George walked into the station and found Ponk sitting over a circuit, fiddling with a wire that might have been orange. He turned slightly in his chair when he heard George walk in. 

“You’re alive.”

“No need to sound so surprised.” George walked over to the drawer under his work bench, pulling out a large-faced hammer. He’d left his toolbox at the ship, but he suspected he’d need something different to work on the outside. “I’m helping the guy fix his ship.” 

“Why?” Ponk was looking at him now, his work abandoned on the rusting metal of his table. 

“Well.” George tried to think of a reasonable answer.  _ He’s taking me to space.  _ “He’s paying me.” 

Ponk squinted for a second and George refused to meet his gaze. “Just don’t get yourself killed, yeah?” 

“You already said that, but I won’t. He doesn’t seem like the type to do that anyway.” 

Ponk turned back to his work. “If you say so.” 

George grabbed his stuff and walked back out, waving to Dream and making his way back into the forest. Dream followed behind, his breathing growing labored as they neared the meadow. Every time George looked back to check on him, though, Dream flashed a grin, as though laughing at George for thinking anything was wrong.  _ You don’t even know this guy, _ thought George,  _ maybe he just has very low stamina. _ They reached the clearing and George sighed. They had a lot of work to do. 

“I’m gonna go inside for a sec, but you can start sorting through everything we got, if you’d like,” said Dream. 

“Alright,” replied George. 

He crouched down and began unpacking the bags they’d brought, trying to figure out what pieces might be used where. He had never worked on a spaceship before, but he’d stolen a book from his uncle as a kid that he figured would come in handy now. It had been a book reviewing the different kinds of heat shields that could be used on a vessel, and George hadn’t understood a thing when he’d first taken it. But as he’d grown older, he’d found ways to make the information make sense. Building up the rest of his knowledge of ships and atmospheres so that the book was just one more source of knowledge. 

He’d finished sorting through the pieces when he realized that Dream still hadn’t come back out. He stood up, but hesitated before going back inside. 

_ Ponk squinted for a second and George refused to meet his gaze. “Just don’t get yourself killed, yeah?” _

He clenched his fists and stepped through the doorway. After checking the cockpit and finding it empty, he made his way down the short hallway and into a lounge area. And there he found Dream, staring at his hands, stained in blood. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you liked the little cliffhanger I left :)


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George gives Dream first aid and helps him with his repairs. They start getting to know each other a little better :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this chapter, I think it might be one of my favorites I've written so far! Happy late birthday to Patches and Quackity! Thanks for reading this story, hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Do NOT repost this on any other website! I will report it and have it taken down! Also, please don't send this to CCs or tag them or mention it in donos/chat/comment sections, etc.

George took a step back, breath hitching. All around Dream were bandages and bloodied cloths, scattered across the chairs and floor. Although Dream looked dazed, his gaze still rose to meet George’s and he gave a slow blink. But among the confusion clouding the boy’s face, George recognized the fear carved into the frown lines along his brow, the tightness around his jaw.

“I, um,” he said, voice gruff, “can’t seem to bandage my head. I think I hit it during the crash.” He reached for a blue towel on the chair next to him and pressed it to the back of his head. “I was hoping I’d be able to take care of this while you set up outside.” He was scared, for sure. But also, George realized, a little ashamed. 

George had been frozen in mind and body for the last minute, but he finally forced himself to focus. “You look like you need a medic,” he said, walking over to Dream. George looked at the back of his head and found a gash that ran from the nape of his neck, next to his left shoulder, nearly up to his right ear. He had no clue how he hadn’t seen it before. 

“I put a plaster on it when I landed, but it doesn’t seem to have helped much,” Dream replied, voice growing quieter.

“Dream, you need a medic,” George repeated as he continued taking in the wound.

“I’ll be fine,” he said with a scoff. “It’s just a little blood. Just help me bandage my head. Please.” Something in his tone, in the words that he’d left hidden and unsaid, forced George to relent. 

“I...have never had to give anyone first aid before. I don’t know what to do.”

“Here, just grab that, over there,” Dream said, pointing at a vial with a clear liquid, “And then take this clean towel and soak it in that.” George followed the instructions, aware that Dream watched every breath he took. “And now just kind of clean the area, if you can.” George stepped behind the chair, gripping the towel tightly. He began cleaning the wound as gently as he could, surprised at the fact that he wasn’t nauseous.  _ I am so fucking glad I can’t tell how bright this red is. _ He gently pressed the towel into Dream’s matted hair and then put it down. He reached for the stretchy white strips he would use to cover the wound. 

“I’m going to have to wrap this around your head,” said George. 

“That’s fine,” said Dream, tilting his chin up, almost inviting George to reach around him. George grabbed the soft cloth and stretched it over the jaggedly torn skin, pressing one end of the bandage into an unscarred part of his scalp, fingers brushing against Dream’s soft blond hair. He forced his breathing to steady as he leaned forward to wrap the bandage around Dream’s head, almost losing focus when he felt Dream’s breath against the inside of his forearm. The moment was just like a butterfly landing on your nose: pure, soft bliss, but only for a second. Retracting his arm was more painful than every time he’d ever stubbed his toe against his workbench. He wrapped it around twice more, before using a little clip that Dream handed him to secure it. He stepped back, already missing the warmth Dream radiated and the softness of his hair against George’s calloused hands. He walked over to the doorway without looking at Dream. He forced himself to turn back around, smiling at the lopsided look of the bandage. 

“We should, um, get back to work,” George said, cursing himself for how breathless the words came out. Dream was staring at him with what seemed like amusement. “Your ship won’t fix itself,” he quipped, in an effort to regain his dignity.

“No,” Dream said, standing. The color was finally beginning to return to his face, lips slightly darker than when George had walked in. “It won’t.” They walked out into the waning sunlight and began working at pulling away the parts of the ship that needed replacing. 

“So,” said George, grunting as he dragged over a metal plate. “Why’d you crash here?”

“Well, I’ll be honest. I’ve been putting off repairs for months now. It was just a matter of time before something like this happened.” George nodded as he pushed the plate into place and started tightening a thick, dark screw. He opened his mouth to reply when— “Although, it probably wouldn’t be this bad if I hadn’t—well, nevermind.” 

George frowned but kept working. “But why here? Why on Lof-N?” Why this deserted solar system? Why the outer rim of the galaxy? No one came here. No one left. 

“Work.” George rolled his eyes. That answer couldn’t be more vague and unconvincing. He finally managed to secure the screw and huffed, moving on to the next one. He wasn’t used to this kind of work. His job was much more delicate and he winced as he realized that he’d probably wake up with blisters the next day. “What brought you here?” asked Dream, jarring George out of his thoughts. Without realizing, he’d placed two more screws. He finished up with the panel and stood up to stretch as he thought of an answer. 

“I wasn’t brought here by anything, really. This is where I was born. I’ve always been here.” He reached for his bottle of water, flipping open the straw to take a sip. 

“That must be nice, to have a home,” Dream replied. George flipped it back down, shoving the bottle back into his bag. 

“I mean, not really. I’ve always wanted to leave. Something’s always felt a little off, here.” George turned back to the ship to assess the work they’d done. Even though they were only halfway through, the difference was notable. But that might just have been a result of the waning light. 

“Mm, I get that. That’s how I feel everywhere,” Dream said with a laugh. He looked up, and George realized he’d forgotten, over the last two hours, how bright Dream’s eyes were. He realized, then, as he murmured something about how it would be better to work when there was more light—that he should really get home for the day—that if he’d had to bandage Dream’s head while being watched by him, he would have failed. He would have ended up lost in the endless grey of them—so akin to the meadows he loved, and yet so alien as well. 

He waved goodbye and headed into the trees, surprised by how different they looked to him now: so much clearer and yet nothing more than a blur. No sooner did he see one tree than it was gone from his memory. 

***

After a night of fitful sleep, George found himself trudging back through the forest. He took his time, taking in the treetops and the little birds that were perched on them. Once he reached the clearing he found Dream already working on the hull. George glanced away as Dream pushed a scrap of metal into place, arms up over his head, shoulders tight with tension. 

“I see you’ve already gotten to work, huh,” said George, putting down his bag. 

“No time to waste,” he replied with a grunt. George jogged over and grabbed the end of the piece as it began tilting sideways. Together, they fitted it into place and hammered it in. Dream smiled over at him and reached for a screwdriver that lay in the dirt. Most of the meadow had been destroyed by the ship's arrival, especially the surrounding area. “Oh, wait,” said Dream, pointing the screwdriver at him, “You haven’t met Patches.” He walked over to the doorway and waved the screwdriver in George’s direction. “C’mon, she’s sleeping over here.” George followed him down the hallway and into what seemed to be a closet, where Patches was asleep atop a pile of laundry. George crouched down to take a closer look, smiling when Patches lifted her head and let out a small meow. “Thankfully the door to the outside is working, or else I would’ve had to put her in the suspension bubble again, so she wouldn’t wander off.” A strand of hair fell into Dream’s eyes, and he moved it away. 

“Suspension bubble?” asked George.

“Oh yeah, I’ll show you.” They crossed the hallway into what seemed to be a small bedroom. On a far corner was a painting of a planet, royal blue and surrounded by moons. In an open cupboard, there was a clear sphere that looked almost like a transparent beach ball. “Basically, whatever you put inside it will just float around without touching the edges. Even if you throw it around, it’ll stay floating. As long as it doesn’t pop, it works.” George crouched down, fascinated by it. 

“Can we try it, right now?” he asked. Dream cracked a smile and nodded. He reached into the front pocket of his still-dirty overalls and pulled out a coin. He opened a slit in the bubble and pushed it in. As soon as the ball was fully sealed again, the coin floated up to the middle of the sphere and bobbed slightly, never straying far from the center. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“Really?” asked Dream. “Some people have even bigger ones for when they travel with their kids.” George let out a faint gasp, mouth opening as he pictured what Dream described. “It’s actually really funny to see in action.”

“God, those poor kids, getting boxed like a fish.” Dream snorted before pulling the coin back out. 

They walked back outside and spent the rest of the day finishing the outer repairs. They held quiet conversations around the loud bangs of their hammers, and George marveled at how little thought it took to talk to Dream. They worked together for the larger repairs, moving almost in sync and only rarely having to ask the other to do something. By the time the stars had reemerged, the hull was completely fixed. 

“We can head out of here by tomorrow if we fuel up the ship in the morning,” mused Dream. 

“I’m guessing you’ll need to buy fuel, then.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been running on the cheap steamer packs they sell at convenience stores, and I think that’s a big part of why I crashed.” 

“Well no fucking wonder,” said George, throwing his hands in the air. “You know I’m starting to think you aren’t going to be able to pay me after all. First refusing to go to a medic and now this?”

“I will, of course, I will,” he scoffed. “I just—Don’t worry, you’ll get your money,” he said but refused to look George in the eye.

“I better,” replied George. And yet he couldn’t help feeling like he would have stayed, anyway, for a chance to travel the stars with a grey-eyed boy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was as fun to read as it was to write! Have a lovely day
> 
> On a side note, the whole thing about the chapters being off by one number is annoying me SO MUCH lmao, every time I see it, I sigh


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George go gather supplies on Aether, a neighboring planet to Lof-N. Dream starts getting to know George a little better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I'll admit, it has some of my favorite lines. Hope everyone is having a great day <3
> 
> Do NOT repost this on any other website! I will report it and have it taken down! Also, please don't send this to CCs or tag them or mention it in donos/chat/comment sections, etc.

Dream watched George pick out pieces from the display table, eyes entirely focused, as though he couldn’t sense any of what surrounded him. And Dream couldn’t focus on anything else, either. Despite the bustling crowds, colorful signs, hundreds of items, he was fascinated by the way George seemed to know exactly what he was looking for, all the time. 

“What do you use to turn on echo-location?” George asked, turning to look at Dream.  _ Focus.  _

__

“Like, on the console?” A nod. “Oh, um, a switch.” George hummed, turning back to the pieces as he rubbed his jaw. It had taken Dream a day to realize what a marvel George’s hands were. No, the first thing he’d been drawn to was those eyes—dark and piercing, yet as warm as their meadow when the sun was high and the birds sang. 

__

“Your console isn’t as damaged as I originally thought, so we shouldn’t need many more pieces. I just want to look over here, for a second, because I suspect we’ll have to redo some of the wirings.” George walked over to a bucket on the floor and began rummaging through the contents. 

__

Dream was impressed by how well George had bounced back from the trip. When he’d admitted to Dream that he’d never left his planet before, Dream had told him to prepare. He’d watched as the young man fidgeted, pupils dilating, as he prepared for take-off. 

__

While flying over, George had spent a few hours lying on the floor in Patches’ closet but had forced himself to get up after a while and crawl over to a window so he could feel sick next to the stars. Within an hour, he’d been on his feet again. He hadn’t walked around much, just from window to window—and eventually to the cockpit—but Dream had still been surprised. He knew the memory of his first flight like the back of his hand. He knew it so well he sometimes wished he could just forget it. 

__

When they’d landed on Aether, George had led Dream through a planet he’d never been on, to the nearest market, and ordered him around as he searched for the right parts. 

__

“We should probably work on the navigation system while we’re parked here so that I can keep working on the rest of the system while we fly back,” said George, standing up and handing a fistful of wires to the creature attending the shop. They counted out all the pieces and gave Dream and George a final price, which Dream paid around gritted teeth.  _ My ship better end up good as new, for this price. _

__

He and George had then left the shop and made their way through the bustling market, both looking around, albeit George with more curiosity. He stopped at one point, so suddenly that Dream was four steps ahead when he realized George wasn’t next to him. He turned and walked back over to find George staring up at one of the dimmer signs. It had a drawing of a cat on it. “We should go in,” said George, “They might have treats for Patches.” 

__

Dream couldn’t help smiling as he started walking towards the shop. “I know you’ve done marvels to help me fix my ship and all, but this is the best idea you’ve had all day.” 

__

He could already imagine how excited Patches would be if they brought her treats or a new toy. He pushed open the door and waited for George to go through before closing it. They looked around the shop, cute toys sitting on every shelf. Dream found one he thought Patches would like and, after showing it to George, decided to buy it. But when they walked out, he noticed that George had a small bag of his own held behind his back. He chose not to comment on it as they made their way back to the ship, though. 

__

The first thing they did was find Patches, and Dream handed her the toy he’d bought her. 

__

“You know exactly what she likes, huh?” said George as he watched Patches gnaw on the feathered ball. Dream crouched down to pet her. 

__

“We’ve gotten to know each other pretty well,” he said. “She’s been my truest companion for the last few years.” He tensed, scared that he’d shared too much. But when he looked up, he found George staring at Patches with a smile. His shoulders sagged. 

__

“That’s really nice. I’ve always wanted a pet. Bad has a little dog but I don’t think they’re for me.” 

__

“Who’s Bad?” Dream asked as he stood up and slid out into the hallway. George followed as they walked into the cockpit. 

__

“He’s one of the guys at the station.” George pulled a set of clippers out of his tool pouch. “I’ve known him since we were kids.” 

__

They drifted into a comfortable silence as they worked, Dream humming a song he hadn’t heard in years. Eventually, after hours of fiddling with wires and fumbling over tools, they got the nav system up and running again. George collapsed on the floor, his hair sticking up, and let out a sigh. Dream yawned as he stood and stretched, hoodie hiking up as he did. He turned to the console and began testing out just how much had been fixed. 

__

“I think,” Dream mused as a hologram filled the space in front of him, “That we are ready to fly.” He turned and grinned at George, but George didn’t seem to share his excitement. Dream wondered whether he should say something but decided to drop it. Instead, he walked out of the room to prep the rest of the ship for the trip back to Lof-N. 

__

__

***

__

__

Shortly after their takeoff, once they’d left the atmosphere and the regravitator had kicked in, George stood up from his chair and walked out of the cockpit. Dream was tinkering with a particularly stubborn piece of machinery, so he dropped it and followed George. He found George crouching next to a window, offering something to Patches. 

__

“What is that?” asked Dream as he sat down next to George. 

__

“It’s a chew toy with catnip in it,” he said, smiling as Patches pushed it out of his hand with her paw and began sniffing it.

__

“I knew you bought something in that shop,” said Dream, lightly shoving a finger into George’s shoulder, “I saw the bag behind your back but I wanted to see what you’d do with it.”

__

“I wanted it to be a little surprise for after we were in space. A break from all the work we’ve been doing.” As soon as he said it, his demeanor changed. It was as though a veil of sadness had been placed on his head. 

__

“You don’t seem too happy to be heading back home. I thought for sure you’d be glad to get to a planet you knew.”

__

“How come?”

__

It slipped out before Dream could stop himself. “Well, that’s how I felt on my first trip.” He held his breath, waiting for a sneer or eye roll, but all he got was a nod. 

__

“How old were you?” George asked as he settled against the wall, staring up and back at the stars beyond the window. His neck lengthened with the movement and Dream couldn’t stop his eyes from tracking it. 

__

“Thirteen.” George smiled, eyes still on the cosmos. 

__

“I guess I just don’t want to go back yet,” George said with a sigh. “I’ve spent my whole life there. I want to explore, I want to learn, I…” he looked at Dream and there was something close to anguish in his eyes. Dream felt his chest tighten. “I feel alive for the first time in years and,” George looked down at Patches, still gnawing away at her new toy. He whispered the next part in one breath, as though scared that if he didn’t say it all at once, he’d never find the courage to say it at all. “I’m not ready to feel like a ghost again.” 

__

They sat in silence for a few minutes, George grieving the numbness he knew awaited him, Dream trying to find some way around his helplessness. He wanted nothing more than to promise the man in front of him that it wouldn’t happen but he knew that once they landed and his ship was fixed, he would have to go. He itched to grab the pale fingers of George’s hand but he stopped himself. “I’ll come to visit you, anytime I need something fixed,” murmured Dream.  _ That makes no sense. It would be a hassle to come all the way out here anytime something breaks down. _ “You can stay on here, I’ll show you around the galaxy while you work.” George smiled, shoulders relaxing slightly at the idea.  _ Tough fucking luck. We’re doing it. _

__

George stood up, stretching. Dream forced himself to stare at the floor. “I’d better get back to work.” He stepped over Dream on his way back to the console. “I hope you’re serious about your offer,” he called as he disappeared. Dream pressed his palms into his eyes and sighed. 

__

“What the fuck is going on, Patches?” he whispered before making his own way back. 

__

__

***

__

__

The next thing they managed to fix was the weapons control system, and after that, they made sure that the satellite system was working, so they knew exactly where they were, and who might be nearby. It was only a few minutes after they got that up and running that Dream noticed there were two ships nearby, heading towards them from the same direction. 

__

“That’s not good,” said Dream as he sat down in the pilot’s chair. George looked up from where he was tinkering with what looked to be the wires for the comm system. 

__

“What’s not good?” 

__

“Two ships, heading right towards us.”

__

“They could just be passing by, right?”

__

“Not likely,” he said as he watched them get closer and closer on his monitor. He started powering up the cannons, wondering what setting would be best. “These areas are usually full of fugitives running from justice. Even if they don’t think we’re trouble, they might kill us just to be sure.” 

__

“What?” said George, panic clear in his voice. 

__

“Don’t worry, they’ll have to catch us first,” he replied, pulling the speed throttle all the way forward. “I appreciate that you’re trying to fix my ship, but I’d suggest you strap in.” 

__

“Okay.” George stood up and walked over to his chair before asking, “Should I put Patches in the floaty thing?” 

__

“Oh yeah, good idea, but be quick about it.” He nodded and ran out. Dream tried to listen to see if Patches behaved as George tried to place her, but he didn’t hear anything. George came back moments later and said nothing as he sat down and secured himself in the chair. Dream’s fingers thrummed on the console as he watched the ships draw nearer. D.R.I.S.T.A. was still flying towards Lof-N, and the ships were coming from behind them, so it would be a little while before they were within communicating or firing range, but it would happen. 

__

The minutes passed in tense silence. Despite the fact that he should have been thinking up a plan to get away from their pursuers, all Dream could think about was that moment next to the window. He could no longer remember how many times he’d looked out that same window, searching for a place he might call home. George had looked out as though the entirety of what lay beyond it  _ was _ his home. 

__

The sharp beep of the console brought him back to reality as the monitor signaled that his ship would soon converge with the two outsiders. Dream began flipping switches all over, boosting up the shield and warming the guns so that if—when—the time came to start shooting, they would be ready. 

__

“Is there anything I can do to help?” asked George, whose knuckles were white from holding on so tightly to the straps of his chair. 

__

“Unless you can fix the comm system in the next ten seconds, so we can negotiate safe passage, nope.” Dream looked over his shoulder. “If I need you, you’ll know.” George frowned but nodded. Dream steered the ship downwards and watched as the ships flew past overhead. They flew side by side and between them—connecting them—was a long, bright chain. 

__

Both Dream and George craned their necks to look at the ships, and George blew out a breath. “They were going to slice us in half.” 

__

“Nasty people out here.” The ships turned together and slowed down to face them head-on. “Most people in these areas aren’t as sweet as you, unfortunately.” 

__

With that, Dream smacked the blue button to the left of the throttle and watched as five missiles shot out of the belly of the ship and raced towards the twin flyers. “Let’s see how useful that chain is when they’re running from those bad boys.” Dream shoved the throttle forward and they shot upwards. But Dream watched, with horror, as the ships simply moved apart and the chain came loose from the left ship, retracting into some secret pocket in the right ship like a snake hiding in a cave. The ships turned, flying away, the missiles following them. 

__

“Fuck.” 

__

The D.R.I.S.T.A. shot forward and past the ships, heading towards Lof-N. They weren’t far from it and Dream didn’t think they’d be followed to the surface. Hopefully, the missiles would keep them distracted long enough to give Dream and George a head start. 

__

For a minute and a half, Dream watched as the figures grew smaller and smaller behind them. But he could still see as one by one, each missile blew up and the ships emerged unscathed. As soon as the last missile was gone, they were chasing them, firing even though they were out of range. It was a threat, clear as daylight. 

__

Dream kept their speed steady, pushing the engine to keep running up their pace, but his monitor showed the two red dots nearing the green dot, the D.R.I.S.T.A.. This ship could outrun most others, but their chasers were still gaining on them. He couldn’t imagine the kind of money these goons would have to have in order to pay for a setup like that. 

__

Suddenly, the sky in front of them exploded with a pink powder that spread in every direction. Dream pulled up the holographic view that the nav system could provide them. He waited, expecting the substance to corrode their shield or disable the engines but nothing happened. 

__

“Who would send out a harmless pink powder? And why?” asked George from behind him. That’s when it hit Dream like a ton of bricks. 

__

“Oh, we’re so fucked,” he said, biting his lip. He let out a snort. “The guys chasing us, well, no one knows how but they have all kinds of toys. They used to be the most wanted fugitives in the galaxy—every solar system had a bone, if not three, to pick with ‘em. And then one day, everyone became too scared of actually catching them. So now, they rule the outskirts with an iron fist.”

__

“How do they know we’re trouble?”

__

“There’s a good chance they’ve got a list of anyone who might...mess up their operation. I’m probably on it.” 

__

“Why? What do you do?” 

__

“Now’s really not the time, George.”

__

“Who could be that bad, that you can’t answer such a simple question?” said George. 

__

“Well, it’s not as simple as you think. But to answer your question,” they cleared the pink powder and Dream sighed as he spotted the two ships up ahead. They had somehow managed to get ahead of the D.R.I.S.T.A. “Those people would be Technoblade and Philza Minecraft.” 

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure if George would be able to tell that the powder was pink or not, but I decided to just go with it. If I got it wrong please let me know, I'll go back in and change it! 
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed :)


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IT'S PANDA TIME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was tons of fun to write, I hope you all like it, and thanks again for reading :)
> 
> Do NOT repost this on any other website! I will report it and have it taken down! Also, please don't send this to CCs or tag them or mention it in donos/chat/comment sections, etc.

When George was five years old, a small circus had come to Lof-N to host a festival. When he and Bad had found out, they’d decided that they would sneak out together to visit it one afternoon. Upon arriving, Bad had insisted that they ride the ponies, but when George had gotten on his, he’d lasted all of thirty seconds before being sick. He hadn’t experienced that same level of nausea and regret in years; in fact, he’d forgotten it. But as Dream steered them one way and then another, shooting at the two devils chasing them, George felt all of those same sensations—and more—overtake his body. He tried to calm his breathing, he tried to focus on holding the straps of his chair, he tried imagining that he was in Patches’ suspension bubble, but nothing worked. 

“You doing okay back there?” Dream called right as he slammed on the reverse thrusters, lurching them to a halt. 

“I don’t know if I’m feeling like this because of your fancy flying or because we might die,” was all he could respond. 

Dream burst out laughing as he pulled a lever above his head and something popped somewhere beneath the ship. “We’ll be just fine,” he chided as the ship raced forward, the sonic echoes of their enemies’ ships disappearing as Dream pushed the speed throttle forward. 

“How could you possibly know?” George groaned. 

“I’ve made it out every time before,” he said with a shrug. Dream’s shoulders were tense and the corded muscles bunching up at the neck of his shirt were just barely visible over the edge of his collar. _Even that’s not enough to distract me from his logical fallacies._

“That’s not how statistics work, Dream.” 

“Not everything in life is predictable, George.” _That much is true. I never could have predicted you_. 

Just then, something hit the side of the ship. The impulse from the blow pushed them sideways and George felt the straps pull against his waist. 

“Fuck, they hit us.” Within seconds, Dream had flipped ten switches and pushed a handful of buttons, all while monitoring the screen that would tell him if anything had been damaged. “Lower right ventilator’s down,” he called. 

“Oh, and we just fixed that two days ago,” said George.

“I know, what a shame. The only upside is you’ll be forced to spend more time with me,” he said as he looked back at George and smiled. The nausea pounding at George’s insides shifted into something different, something a little less like thunder and a little more like lightning. 

But before he could think of a response, he felt a thud from the other side of the ship and then, with a growing sense of horror, felt the engine sputter out. Dream pressed a button. Nothing happened. He pressed another one, then another, and another. The ship still moved, but no longer with any kind of acceleration. Dream sat there for a second before slamming his hand against the wall. He took a shuddering breath. 

“I guess your statistics were right,” he said, voice low and morose, like the groan of old wood just as it gives out and breaks. 

“No,” George sputtered without thinking. “No, there has to be something we can do.” 

“The engine will take hours to fix—if it can even be fixed from inside.” He pointed at the monitor closest to him, the one that showed their ship’s position in comparison with the other two and any nearby planets. “They’ll reach us before we can even figure out what happened.” George was no longer listening. Because on the monitor… “We’d need a miracle to get out—”

“What’s that?” On the monitor, a new dot had appeared: bright orange, like a crackling fire. Dream turned back and looked at the monitor. He let out a faint gasp. “That’s another ship, right?” Dream stared at that dot, seemingly mesmerized. “Isn’t it?” 

George watched in astonishment as Dream climbed onto his chair and leaned forward to look at the space above them. He snorted, and then let out a whooping cry. He turned back to George with a grin that sent sparks flying through the cockpit. “That’s not just any ship. That’s the P.A.N.D.A.” 

Sure enough, the ship appeared in front of them—a round, wide vessel that was painted white with black spots. And across the bottom, George was able to make out the bright flames that had been painted. But within a moment, the ship was gone. Both Dream and George watched on the monitor as the orange dot chased the two ships. They heard explosions all around them but they didn’t know who might be attacking who. 

“I’m gonna go to the engine room, see if I can patch up the thrusters until we get back,” said George, extricating himself from his seat. 

Dream turned back to him, eyes bright, and nodded. George jogged out, checking quickly to make sure Patches was okay before heading over to the engine. The problem, thankfully, was much easier than he’d anticipated. _The additional shielding must have taken most of the damage,_ he thought. He yelled at Dream to shut off the engine, and then pushed the pieces back into place, clearing the debris that was clogging the fuel tube. He made his way back and leaned against Dream’s chair.

“Turn the engine back on,” he said, eyes on the gauges that would reveal whether he’d managed to fix anything. Dream turned a key and they sighed as the system thrummed to life around them. 

“You little shit,” said Dream, awe filling his voice. “You’re a genius, you know that?” George rolled his eyes and fell back into his chair as Dream turned the steering wheel to face the fight. 

“Wait, what are you doing? Shouldn’t we get away while we can?” Dream’s fingers thrummed against the speed throttle. 

“No, I can’t just leave my brother behind.” With that, they raced forward, blasters shooting everything they had as Dream steered them into the heart of the fight. The P.A.N.D.A. fell back, giving the D.R.I.S.T.A. just enough room to land a good hit on one of the ships. Dream and George both cheered as Technoblade and Phliza Minecraft fell back. The other ship released a missile, but the P.A.N.D.A. shot it before it came close to them. It seemed that was all their two enemies needed to decide that they didn’t want to fight anymore. They turned, dashing away as Dream and the other pilot fired a final set of shots. When the two dots disappeared from Dream’s screen, George felt something in his chest ease. 

“I can’t believe we survived,” he said with a sigh. “Wait,” he frowned, “What did you mean by ‘my brother’?” 

Dream bit his lip and shook his head, the way a dog did when its fur was wet. “Don’t worry about it.” He steered them over to the other ship, and started a docking command in the nav system. 

Dream beckoned for George to follow him, and they waited as the P.A.N.D.A. extended a metal gateway that latched onto the D.R.I.S.T.A.’s door. A few minutes later they heard a loud knock against the metal, and Dream pulled the latch and swung the door open, to reveal a man who was right around George’s height, wearing a warm smile and a white headband under his long, messy brown hair. As soon as he saw Dream he stepped through the door and tackled Dream, embracing him in a full-on bear hug. 

“Dude, I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he said in a voice that could only be described as a cup of hot chocolate on a cold, rainy day. Dream held onto him just as tightly, eyes screwed shut. 

“This job’s not nearly as fun without you,” he replied into the man’s shoulder. 

“How’s Patchy?” asked the man, without letting go. 

“She’s gonna be so excited to see you,” said Dream with a snort. 

After a long moment, during which George debated walking off to release Patches, or work on the comm system, or check on the engine, or do literally anything other than standing there, the boys pulled apart and shared a rueful smile. 

“George, I’d like you to meet Sapnap. He’s one of my oldest friends and, well, the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother. Sapnap, this is George. He’s been helping me with my ship. He’s one of the smartest guys I’ve ever met.” 

They shook hands and then Sapnap turned back to Dream. Despite not knowing either one of them very well, George could tell that there was something going on. Neither boy would meet the other’s gaze, and they seemed almost shy around each other, despite the hug they’d just shared. 

“You know what, I’m gonna go work on the comm system because it’s still down and, um, we don’t have any time to waste.” The two nodded and shifted on their feet. Dream waved a hand in the other direction, signaling for Sapnap to follow him down the hallway to the main room. _God, that was awkward,_ George thought as he opened a panel in the console of the cockpit and found the wires that were connected to the comm buttons on the main switchboard. 

He rewired the system, grateful to be working on the kinds of machinery he was in charge of maintaining back home. 

Home. He refused to let himself face that reality. Because it had hit him too hard, too fast, during that conversation with Dream as he played with Patches, just how much he’d enjoyed the last few days. Even though he’d been working his ass off and was totally exhausted, he knew that if he went back home, only to never leave again, he would spend the rest of his life dreaming about these three days. About how much brighter the stars looked once you were floating among them. About the thrill when that other ship had arrived to save them. About the wonders he’d seen in that market with Dream. And about the man who’d crashed into his life, at once corny and hilarious, shy and outspoken, lost and free. 

He got to the last wire that he had to plug in and hesitated. “So,” he said with a smile mostly melancholy, “This is where the messages come from.” He looked at the wire, and then through the window to take in the stars. “This is where they go.” 

He plugged it in and watched as buttons began glowing and messages began popping up on the monitor. He peaked at one of them, a message about a corpse that George didn’t understand in the slightest, before deciding that maybe he was better off tinkering on something else. He spent a while in that room, going back and forth between stargazing and working on the diminishing number of broken things left for him. He was being the most productive he’d ever been, and yet he’d never felt more useless. No matter what he did, he knew where he was headed. And then, just when he didn’t think he could take it anymore, he heard a loud ping and looked over at the console. One of the monitors, the message board—if he wasn’t wrong—was glowing purple and green. There was no message, though, just a signal.

George frowned. He walked over to the monitor and reached out a hand to try and open the programming on the screen, in the hopes of tracking down where the signal was coming from but he stopped himself. He was still on a stranger’s ship. A stranger who had been very careful not to tell him what he did, or who he really was. 

_I should just tell Dream._

He walked out and began searching for the pair, finding them in the lounge area speaking intensely. He cleared his throat awkwardly and both looked over at him. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but, um, I fixed the comm system, and, well, some kind of signal is blasting through. I didn’t want to try to open it up or break down the code in case you wanted to take a look at it.” 

“What do you mean blasting through?” asked Dream, biting his nail. His eyes were trained right on George’s, with an intensity that was hard to quantify. 

“Well, when I fixed the comm system, messages and notifications started popping up on the monitor, but when this arrived, it took up the whole screen. The entire window was taken up by the green and purple swirl...glowy thing.” Dream’s eyes widened and he stood up, even as Sapnap reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device. He pressed a button and then George watched his face filled with a pink glow coming from the screen. 

“My ship’s getting the same signal,” he said, looking at Dream. Dream took a deep, unsteady breath. 

“Do you really think it’s—” ventured Dream, something like worry clouding his features. 

“It has to be.” Where Dream had spoken with wariness, Sapnap’s voice was full of a desperate kind of hope. 

The exchange reminded George of the afternoons when he and Skeppy would wait to see if the hot chocolate man would make his way through town. One of them was always skeptical, the other sure of its arrival. That way only one of them ever had to be wrong. 

They shared a silent look and then Dream turned to George and nodded. They all made their way back into the cockpit, the space growing slightly cramped now that the three of them were in there, but all of their attention turned to the screen. 

“It’s him,” whispered Dream. And then he was laughing, laughing as he tried to trace the signal. “Holy shit, it’s actually him.” 

Sapnap was grinning, arms crossed as he watched Dream work. George hadn’t realized how buff he was. “He’s so fucking dramatic. Man, I’ve missed him.” 

George wondered who they could possibly be talking about. _There’s so much about them, about Dream, that I don’t know. What was I thinking, getting on the spaceship of a complete stranger?_

Dream clicked a few more buttons and then the light disappeared, replaced by a short message, written in a deep purple. The message read: 

**Come to The Rapids, I have vital info on Q. We need to act ASAP.**

**\- Karl**

George read the message and frowned. He was growing tired of feeling so out of the loop. “Who’s Karl?” he asked. 

“Karl Jacobs,” said Dream, eyes staring out at the stars, “He...he’s an old friend of ours.” 

When he didn’t say anything else, George sighed and decided to drop it. “Alright then. I’m guessing you’ll need to drop me off quickly if you need to get to these rapids so soon.” 

Sapnap shook his head. “We haven’t heard from Karl in years. If he’s reaching out, he’s got something big. He might be in danger. We gotta go now.”

Sapnap started stepping into the hallway, making his way back to the door that would lead to the P.A.N.D.A. “Sap’s right, we can’t risk it,” said Dream.

“But—that would mean I have to come with you,” said George, barely believing what these two were saying. “I mean Lof-N isn’t that far—” 

Dream turned to George, desperation forcing his brows together, making his shoulders slouch forward. “Please, George, this is just too important.”

George gave himself a few seconds to think over it. Dream’s pout was making it hard for him to focus, though. If he said no, he’d leave Dream on bad terms, and his time in space would be over, indefinitely. If he went along, though, there were still dangers to be had. Especially since Dream was so cryptic about everything. 

“Fine,” said George, and Dream gave Sapnap a high five, “But on one condition.” 

“What?” asked Dream. 

“You have to tell me who you are and what the actual fuck is going on.” 

“Ooh,” said Sapnap, “Sassy.” George rolled his eyes, trying to keep a straight face. 

Dream narrowed his gaze. “Deal.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you all have a lovely day!


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they fly to The Rapids, Dream and George talk about their pasts and begin preparing for their meeting with Karl. Over the course of the flight, they're both forced to bring down their walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I say this every time but oh my god this chapter!!! I love this one!!! I hope you all love it too and have a wonderful day!

Dream was grateful for the controls in front of him. They gave him something to do as George asked him questions. 

He and Sapnap had set their courses and were traveling next to each other, the D.R.I.S.T.A. and the P.A.N.D.A soaring through the never-ending vacuum of space together. 

“Why was Sapnap there to save us?” asked George. It made sense for that to be the first thing he wanted to know. 

“He was chasing down a lead nearby, and he’s a real nerd about navigation systems so the one on his ship is like super high tech. He saw what was happening and came over on a hunch.” 

“Some hunch,” said George. 

“He’s got killer instincts,” commended Dream. 

“Okay,” replied the other boy, before asking, “What is your job, actually?” George was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. For once, Dream was glad he couldn’t see George’s hands—they were too distracting. 

“I…”  _ How the fuck do I explain it? _ “I do gigs, for people.”

George scoffed. “What kind of gigs?” 

“Well, I mean I take all the work I can get ‘cause a man’s gotta feed his cat, but, you know, mostly gigs where I have to—how should I say it—retrieve someone.” 

George was quiet for a moment, and Dream looked back to find him staring pensively at the ceiling. “That sounds like you’re a bounty hunter…” 

“No, God, not a bounty hunter,” Dream said, probably exaggerating the words more than he should have. “More like a cowboy. Making sure that all of the cattle…”  _ Where the fuck am I going with this? _ “Are where they need to be.”  _ That save...man, I’m a genius. _

George snorted and walked up to Dream. He reached across him and grabbed the bag of cat treats that was next to the A/C controller. “You’re cute when you do that thing. It’s too bad it’s so annoying.” 

Dream’s stomach dropped, and he was suddenly much more aware of how close George had been. It was just like when George had bandaged his head—he hadn’t known if he was lightheaded because he was bleeding or because of how George’s fingers felt against his scalp. 

“So,” said George as he walked towards the doorway, “That’s why those two were chasing us. They thought you were there to...shepherd them, huh?” 

“Something like that, probably.” 

“Hmm,” said George, his voice growing quieter as he walked away. “You’re hunting them and they’re hunting you.”

“Too bad you got stuck in the middle,” called Dream. 

There was a short pause, and then a snort. “Oh, I just thought of a really dirty joke I could make about that.” 

“Well, what is it?” shouted Dream. 

“Nope. You don’t get to hear it,” George shouted back. A moment later Dream heard him murmuring to Patches, cooing over her as she meowed over the treats. 

“Why the hell not?” Dream pulled back the throttle, realizing that sometime during his conversation with George, he’d pushed the throttle forward, leaving Sapnap behind. He typed out a message,  **Sorry, I got a little too excited.**

George called back, “Because you almost got us killed back there. If you want to hear my dirty jokes, you’ll have to go...three days without us almost dying.” A message came through the monitor,  **You know what? I don’t even wanna know what happened** . Dream grinned, imagining Sap rolling his eyes as he read out Dream’s apology. 

“Three days...that’ll be tough.” He could feel something blazing through his chest. “Being with me can be dangerous. You’ve given me quite a challenge, George.” 

George walked back in, something unreadable in his eyes as he leaned against the console, right next to Dream, and reached over to drop the bag of treats. “Maybe it’s better that way,” he murmured, “I wouldn’t want to bore you.” They stared at each other, knees almost touching, neither one of them breathing. 

Just then, before Dream could guide his hand over to where George’s lay, braced against the edge of the console, Patches trotted into the cockpit and jumped up onto the weapons system switchboard, prompting George to step away from Dream and pick her up before she could cause any damage. She looked up at George and let out a quiet ‘mew’ as if asking what she’d done wrong. 

“You know, Patches, you’re too cute for your own good,” chided George with a smile. He sat down in his chair, scratching Patches chin as she began to purr.

Before he could stop himself, Dream snorted and mumbled, “That’s rich, coming from you.” 

“What?” said George. 

“Nothing,” replied Dream with a cough. He could just picture George rolling his eyes as he turned his attention back to Patches. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before George said, in a quiet voice that sounded like a lonely cloud on a bright blue day, “Tell me about The Rapids.”

“A long time ago, two planets collided right around that spot. And because of this black hole that’s not too far from it, a lot of the debris, especially the smaller debris, started being pulled down there. It created these sort of streams of asteroids. It was super dangerous to navigate and, from a distance, it kind of looks like a waterfall. So, people nicknamed the place The Rapids, and now that the cores of the planets have cooled and hardened, people go meet there.” 

“That sounds so cool,” said George, in awe. 

“Don’t be fooled,” said Dream with a laugh. “It’s the kinda place you go to if you like almost dying every day.” George laughed and waited. “It’s a port of transit, really. Lots of people in, lots of people out, and almost no regulation. Folks love it because they can get shit in and out very quickly, and no one asks questions. But...well, it operates on an honor code, in a place where most people don’t give a damn about honor.”

“Well now it sounds like a shit place to go,” said George as Patches jumped off his lap. 

“It can be fun if you let go a little,” said Dream, wiping one sweaty palm against his overalls. He’d worn bright pink ones today. “Plus it’s a good place to lay low. Karl probably doesn’t want anyone to overhear what he has to tell us.” George hummed for a moment. 

“You said Sapnap was your brother, but you two look nothing alike.” 

Dream was tempted to reply something snarky or vague, but he remembered the deal he’d made with George. “We’re not blood brothers.” George stayed quiet. “We grew up together,” he could feel his stomach tightening now, his body bracing as he revealed more and more about himself.  _ Too much, too much _ , his heart seemed to say. “All of us.” 

“You, Sapnap, and Karl?” 

“And Q.” 

A brief moment and then— “Oh.”

Dream braced for the next question, teeth gritted, but it didn’t come. He could feel George looking at him, but he didn’t turn to stare back. He knew if he did, George would see everything he was feeling, and he wasn’t strong enough to face that yet. 

“Where did you live?” 

“For a while, on Abeona, but eventually we scraped together enough money to get our own ship. Quackity gave it the worst fucking name,” Dream said, snorting at the memory. 

“What was it?” George asked, curiosity threaded into his voice. 

Dream leaned back and sighed, looking at a star that was redder than all the ones around it. “Mike Hawk.” George let out a sudden burst of laughter. “I was fourteen, Q was thirteen. We all thought it was a good idea until our first scuffle. As soon as he shouted at us, “Get back to Mike Hawk!” we realized what a terrible, terrible mistake we’d made.” 

George was laughing into his hands now, tears streaming down his face. 

“And you wanna know what the worst part is?” said Dream, voice growing louder, “I think he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew he would get to use that sentence and it would make us all lose our shit. It actually almost got us killed.” 

George continued laughing. “Mike Hawk,” he said breathlessly. “That’s fantastic.” 

“Q was something else, man.” As soon as the words had left his mouth, Dream realized how he’d set up George to ask what had happened. He forced himself to focus on the monitor in front of him, hoping that George would sense his discomfort. 

“How’d you end up with Patches? I can’t imagine being a space cowboy is easier with a cat,” he said in a tone that was gentle enough, understanding enough, to make Dream relax again. A message popped up on one of the monitors from Sapnap,  **Slow the fuck down, dude** . He adjusted the throttle again. 

_ I can do this. This story’s a fun one. Nothing goes wrong here. _ “Well, the four of us were traveling through the Snowchester system, and we had to stop on a random planet because Karl drank some BK juice and it made him super sick. So we landed on this planet and Karl went to a local clinic—Sapnap took him—and Q decided to go look for treasure. So then—” 

“Wait,” said George, voice brimming with disbelief, “What do you mean, treasure?”

“It's exactly what it sounds like. No matter where we went, he always insisted on searching for hidden treasure or myths and legends about buried artifacts. It has to do with this thing we all wanted to do when we were kids, but anyway, so, he went off to do that and I decided to go and explore the little town that the clinic was in. So, I’m walking through this town, right—oh and we were all living together. So, you know, even though I’m the one who currently takes care of Patches and everything, any kind of a pet was going to impact all of us.” 

“Right,” said George, amused. 

“So I’m walking through town, and out of nowhere, I hear this kid crying. And, look, I’m no hero, I know that, but when I hear a kid crying? Obviously, I’m gonna go help. I mean who wouldn’t go help? Well, actually I guess Techno probably wouldn’t go help, but whatever. 

“So, I search out this kid, right, and I find him sitting on the floor outside his house, surrounded by kittens and a grown cat—you just knew she was the mom, I mean, her belly was all swollen and all of the kittens were kinda flocking around her—but, anyway, so I walk up to them and I ask the kid what’s wrong. And he explains to me that his parent is only letting him keep two of the kittens. That they said the rest of the litter is gonna have to be put up for adoption, but the kid’s worried that something’s gonna happen to one of them. And no matter how much the parent tries to explain why they can’t keep all of them, or reassure the kid that the kittens will be safe and better off in other homes, where they’ll be better cared for, the kid is just so sad. 

“So I say to the kid, ‘Hey, how about I take one, and that way, you’ll know it’s safe.’ 

“And he asks, ‘Well, how will I know it’s safe?’ 

“And I said, ‘Because I promise you, right now, that I will protect this kitten with my life, and none of us are capable of offering more than that.’”

“Wait,” interrupts George, “You really said that?” 

“Don’t sound so surprised, you idiot,” Dream says, rolling his eyes. 

“Alright, alright, pardon me then,” George says with a smile. 

“So the kid accepts, and I grab the kitten that seems the most curious out of all of them, and I pick her up and I say to the kid, who’s got clothing on with these really cool, colorful patches—I actually tried to find clothes in that style after I took her but I couldn’t find anything like it. To this day, I’m trying to find clothes that look remotely like that kid’s—but, so I decided to name the kitty Patches, in honor of his clothes. And I tell him that I’ll do that so that whenever I call her name she’ll remember him. 

“And so the kid gets all excited, and I’m really excited too because, I mean you’ve seen how cute Patches is, just imagine her as a kitten, she was the cutest. So I leave and I’ve got her in my arms and I make my way through the town, look for the clothes, don’t find them, and so I go back to the ship. 

“Now, the other boys see me approaching with this absolute bundle of joy in my arms, but obviously, they can’t see her up close, and they send out Sapnap because we tease him all the time about how cold he was with his pets back home, so they send him out to negotiate with me, to basically tell me that I have to take her back. So I told him the story and then I asked him to hold her, just for a second. And even though she was kinda spooked because of all the walking we’d done, she still looked up into his eyes and offered him the cutest little ‘mew’ and Sap just fell for it. He turned back to the ship, mind you Patches was still in his arms, right, and he just shouted back at the boys, ‘We’re keeping her!’ And once they met her, they totally agreed that we just had to keep her, even though they made me swear that I would be the one to change her litter and put out more food and stuff and I just, I don’t know, I sorta became like her official caretaker.” 

He’d managed to keep a steady speed throughout the story, but he’d stopped seeing the stars. He’d been transported all the way back to that planet, to the old days of laughter and constant adventure and the kind of sleep that only comes after you’ve spent hours feeling really really good. But he knew that those days had been haunted by the same itch he’d felt his whole life: to move and keep moving and never stop. He realized, with a slight shock, that it had dissipated while he told the story. 

“Did I bore you?” asked Dream, turning to look at George. He was half-expecting him to have fallen asleep or to maybe be hanging from his chair, staring at the ceiling, but George was watching him, some unknowable feeling dancing in his eyes, along the crinkles that had appeared at the corners. At that look, something in Dream’s chest, way back right next to where his soul must be, eased. 

“I don’t think that’s even possible. You’re very entertaining,” George conceded. Dream smiled and turned back to the front, his eye catching on the shelf where he kept one of his blasters. 

“Do you know how to fight?” asked Dream. 

“Well...not really.” 

“Hm. Okay, yeah we definitely wanna make sure you can fight before we land at The Rapids.” 

“You know, Dream, I’m starting to think it might make more sense for me to just stay on the ship while you meet with Karl.” 

“Nah, we’ll be fine. This is just a precaution, you know?” 

“Dream,” said George. The tone, the sudden smallness and coldness in his voice, made Dream turn around to look at him. Gone was the smile, gone were the light-hearted comments. _He’s just an engineer, from some lonely planet_ , he thought. And then, _I was probably the first time this dude thought he was gonna die_. 

“George, you’ll be safe, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

“How can you be so sure?” he asked, fidgeting with the straps on his chair, eyes still wary. 

A part of Dream thrashed at the way George had closed himself off. Another part of him shuddered at the fact that he’d picked up on it at all, at the fact that there was a part of him so desperate to make the look in George’s eyes go away. But he knew that he’d dug himself this trap. “Because there’s not a single universe where we walk in there and I don’t fight to keep my repairman alive—no matter what it takes.” 

“How can you say things like that, out of the blue? Aren’t you afraid of being kidnapped? Or dying?” sputtered George, eyes incredulous despite the pink tinge on his cheeks. Dream forced himself to look away.  _ That shade of pink...I think I’m high on it. _

“I’ve faced down death dozens of times, George. Yeah, most days I haven’t particularly wanted to go, but I think I’d be okay if this was the way I died. I don’t think I’d be upset if you were the reason I finally went down.” George didn’t respond and Dream wondered if maybe he’d gone too far, said too much. But when he turned around he found George staring at him, his mouth slightly open, wearing the same expression he’d had when he looked out at the stars from the D.R.I.S.T.A. for the first time. 

_ “I think this is my home,” said George, still a little green from the takeoff.  _

_ “This ship?” asked Dream, bemused. George shook his head.  _

_ “That,” he said, jutting his chin to the window. “All of it. That’s where I want to be, forever.” Dream fell back against the opposite wall, marveling at how sure George was about what he wanted—what he needed.  _ I hope I find that certainty someday, _ Dream mused, captivated by the other boy’s wonder. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it and thank you so much for reading :)


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys prepare for their arrival at The Rapids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little shorter but it helps set up for the next one! I've had lots of fun writing this story and now I always look forward to Mondays when I get to post the next chapter lol
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

George forced himself to take a deep breath as he held the gun in front of him. Dream had made sure the weapon wouldn’t fire a shot and had promised him that even if something did happen, the ship was strong enough to take it. He was standing near the back of the room, arms crossed and leaning against a wall. Tomorrow, they would arrive at The Rapids, so Dream had decided that it was time for George to learn how to defend himself. 

Dream had started by explaining to George that his entire mindset needed to change; “When you’re in a situation where you suspect there might be danger, you have to think differently. You have to walk into a room already looking for possible exits and weapons.” he’d said, refusing to break eye contact with George, “You’re lean, so you’ll be golden on the exit front. Anything that can cause damage or keep someone as far away from you as possible is a weapon.” George had nodded, taking a deep breath. Something was different in Dream’s eyes, like they were no longer a misty grey, but a sea storm instead. 

Then he’d made George get up, and he’d shown him the basics of where and how to hit. 

“Don’t go for someone’s head,” he’d said. “Go for their gut or groin. Use your fist or your elbow.” 

He had pointed at his knuckles, even as his eyes drilled into George’s—as though willing the other boy to focus. 

“You can try with your knees but if you don’t know what you’re doing then you could end up off-balance,” Dream had added.

They’d practiced a few times, George swinging at Dream’s outstretched hands. The whole experience had felt like a nightmare. George had struggled to gain the momentum he needed to actually have an impact, and every time his hand had come in contact with Dream’s, he’d gotten completely distracted from their original goal, every thought in his head becoming about that touch. It didn’t help how poorly he’d slept, or the fact that when he’d finally fallen, he’d dreamed of this man rescuing a baby Patches. 

Now, they were onto the weapons training. Dream had shown him the basic stance he needed to have to hold the weapon, and explained how to aim and fire. But, what had looked completely natural when Dream was doing it felt awkward when George tried it out. 

Dream reached into one of the pockets of his bright pink overalls and pulled out a candy, popping it into his mouth. When Dream had walked out of his room wearing that color, despite George knowing that he couldn’t fully see it, it had taken a lot of willpower to look away, to pretend the other boy didn’t look mesmerizing in that hue. 

George stood there and tried to replicate Dream’s pose, before clicking the button that was supposed to fire it. Dream pushed off the wall and walked over, taking in George's stance. 

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. 

George scoffed. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, what do you expect?” 

“I’ll help you, don’t worry,” said Dream. He reached a hand up and held it over George’s, waiting a moment before reaching for George’s fingers and adjusting their hold on the weapon. His strong-knuckled fingers were soft to the touch and surprisingly gentle as they molded George’s hand to better fit the gun. “If this thing goes off for real, you have to make sure that you’re steady enough that it won’t knock you over.” 

George forced himself to hear the words over the roaring rush filling his head. George’s hands were rough with calluses, from working in the shop all day and messing around with all kinds of tools. But it seemed the space cowboy had been pampered. 

“Your legs need to be a little farther apart,” Dream said, using his foot to nudge George’s feet one way and then the other. They both tensed at the proximity—how easy it was to find themselves this close, even as they felt the miles of distance, of everything about each other they had yet to know, gape even wider between them. “Soften your knees a little,” he murmured. George heeded his advice. A chasm, each boy on one side. The shadows of wings against their backs, but they wouldn’t know if they could fly, could reach each other, until they jumped in. “There, now you’re ready to aim,” he said softly. 

“And how do I do that?” George said in a voice he barely recognized as his own. 

“Well,” he said, bringing his face right next to George’s, their cheeks almost touching, _butterfly kisses, butterfly kisses, butterfly kisses_ , “Keep both eyes open. Don’t ever stop looking at your target,” George had picked a small spot on the wall, clearly marked, as his. He kept looking at it, his hand unsteady. 

“Now what?” 

Dream let out a chuckle, the air brushing against George’s neck. On the edge of that chasm, George felt one of his feet slip. “Now you fire.” George pulled the trigger and felt the shock push back against his arms just as Dream stepped away. He wondered if this was what it felt like when someone popped a suspension bubble and you fell to the ground. A mirage broken, even if that break wasn’t bitter. 

“There. Now you know how to fire a gun,” said Dream. His stance was different, a little more unhinged, almost feral. 

“I don’t quite think that doing it once counts as knowing,” replied George, suddenly feeling a strong urge to sit down and catch his breath. 

“Oh, don’t worry. While I go back to the cockpit to keep flying this bad boy, you’re gonna stay here and practice. This doesn’t count for shit,” Dream said with a grin, gesturing at George. Somehow, despite how dangerous that grin looked—how addicting—the tension disappeared between them. 

“If it actually comes down to me having to protect myself—or anyone—with a gun, we’re screwed. You know that right?” replied George, rolling his eyes. 

“Nah, we’ll be fine. The most important thing to do if you’re holding a gun is to not shoot yourself and to appear as comfortable and confident as possible. If you get to a point where you actually have to shoot the gun, well...” Dream said with a shrug, before walking out. He called back, “Keep practicing, I’ll check back in an hour.” 

“You’re so annoying,” George replied, even as he shifted back into the position Dream had shown him. He practiced until his arms ached, taking a break to pet Patches and another one to eat a snack. When Dream came back, George showed him his technique, and Dream seemed satisfied. 

Eventually, they settled on opposite ends of the room, Dream throwing a ball up and down, George fiddling with his goggles. He’d finally fixed the D.R.I.S.T.A.’s entire console, so now the ship could fly itself on journeys like this one. 

‘What are you up to?” asked Dream, tossing the ball into the air. 

“I’m messing around with a new filter on these,” replied George, pressing a button and looking through them to see what happened. 

“Filter?” 

“Yeah. I don’t really use these to protect my eyes while I work,” explained George. “I’m colourblind and oftentimes wires are colour-coded, so I use these to help me figure out what’s what. But it’s all based on code, so I can design different filters and pick which one to use.” 

“And what kind of filter are you making now?” asked Dream, putting the ball down and leaning forward. 

“Well, this gun, when it’s loaded and ready to fire, gets warm. So, there has to be some kind of energy or radiation being emitted. If I can figure out what, I can get the goggles to detect it, and if I cross-reference a database on different kinds of guns, I might just get a filter that can tell me who, nearby, has a loaded weapon.” 

When Dream didn’t reply, George looked up, to find him slack-jawed and staring at him. 

“What?” 

“You’re something else,” Dream said and shook his head, before settling back down. George sighed and went back to working at his goggles. He tried to stay quiet, but there was something eating away at him, and he couldn’t stop himself from asking about it. 

“I know you’re all shy and stuff,” he ventured without moving, “but...can you give me a little insight on what to expect tomorrow? I still don’t even know why we’re going.” 

He heard Dream take a deep breath. “Yeah, you deserve to know.” He paused before continuing. “A couple of years ago—” 

George felt a strong urge to look over and check to see if Dream was okay, but he didn’t want it to feel like more pressure. So he kept fiddling with the goggles and waited for Dream to feel ready. 

“A couple of years go, Quackity got in some trouble. He did dumb shit and pissed off the wrong people. Those people had a lot of power and, well, they got to him. They grabbed him, got him arrested, and he ended up in the kind of prison that’s supposed to be inescapable. Other than that, we didn’t know much of what had happened. 

“We spent two years trying to find out where they’d taken him—making crazy plans and putting everything we had into finding some way to free him, but it was impossible. At some point we just...we stopped. We each went our separate ways. We didn’t talk anymore. And all the dreams we’d had, the grand plans and hopes for the future, they just kinda faded. 

“I haven’t heard from—or reached out to, if I’m being honest—any of them in forever. Until now. Karl, apparently, has new info on where Q might be, and after all this time if there’s anything we can do to save him, we have to.” 

George finally turned to look at him. Dream was staring straight up, the ball clenched tightly in his hands. George didn’t know what to say to this man who was so clearly in pain. “You’ll save him,” he decided. “You’ll save him. I believe in you.” 

Dream smiled and closed his eyes. “You’re probably the only one.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a wonderful day <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
